


Alright, Guv'nor?

by inigosolo



Category: Horrible Histories
Genre: Anal Sex, Class Kink, Multi, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 22:30:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/411702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inigosolo/pseuds/inigosolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt on hhanon:</p><p>Victorian butler/Chimney sweep boss - class kink<br/>Mr. Prim & Proper secretly likes a bit of rough, and really can't be held responsible for his actions when large, dirty cockneys decide to be annoyingly charming all up in his space.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alright, Guv'nor?

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Literally cannot believe that I came back to fill this prompt. Seriously, I don't even... Frankly, I blame Simon. And a wittily worded prompt that tickled me. But mostly Simon.  
> I named the butler (Mat) 'Perkins', but never gave the master sweep (Simon) a name. I don't know what that's about either.  
> Hope this is anywhere approaching what the OP wanted. Pure porn, you've been told. ; )

“Well then guv, blockages are cleared, me an' the lads'd best be on our way. If you could just see your way to...” The master sweep held out his grubby palm expectantly.   
  
“Excuse me, my good man. But there is another service I require your assistance with. If you'll follow me down to the servants quarters, I'll see to your payment as well.”  
  
The master sweep gave the butler an appraising glance, then nodded.   
  
“Alright guv'nor. Number six? Wait for me in the yard with those other two lads.”  
  
“Right ho, guv.” The filthy child cheerfully dashed outside.   
  
The butler lead the gangly sweep down the stairs.   
  
Reaching the small servants common room, Perkins shut the door securely behind them.   
  
“Right then, guv, what's this 'service' I can help you with?” The sweep asked. As the man spoke he hooked the thumbs of his large, gnarled hands into the waistband of his trousers. Perkins' wide eyes followed the movement of the hands and one way or another, this seemed to answer the question.   
  
“Like that is it, guv? Shoulda known. Alright then. But it'll cost you.”  
  
Perkins held his jaw straight and said calmly; “Twice again what you'll get for seeing to the blocked chimney.” He flicked a speck of dust from one of his cuffs.   
  
The master sweep raised his thick dark brows. “Good enough, guv. Have ta be quick, though, with my apprentices waitin' for me. How d'you wanna do it?”  
  
Perkins clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels, his face colouring slightly. He thought the master sweep might well be able to guess without being told... This was hardly likely to be the first time the man had found himself in this sort of situation.   
  
But the sweep was now regarding Perkins thoughtfully, and his small grey eyes were sharp and clever. He removed his jacket and waistcoat, and began to roll up the sleeves of his grubby shirt.   
  
Perkins watched this greedily, and then allowed his eyes to roam over the sight before him, the master sweep impossibly tall and lanky before him, close-fitting trousers a bit too short for him, an old pair of braces holding them up on his narrow waist. Coarse shirt stretched over broad chest and shoulders, small unmended tear near his navel, exposed forearms hairy and weathered and corded with muscle. Still wearing his filthy flat cap and neckerchief.   
  
Perkins' breathing had accelerated considerably.   
  
“You'd better get your kit off, guv, wouldn't want to get your nice clean suit covered in soot, would you now?” The sweep caught on fast, he'd already lowered his voice to a gruff growl.  Perkins shuddered, his hands rushing to comply with this instruction. He removed his clothing methodically, carefully folding each item and placing it out of the way on a sideboard until he stood naked before the sweep, pristine and white.   
  
Apart from his erection, that was. His long-neglected cock was flushed red with blood, swollen and standing proudly upright. It seemed to twitch when he locked eyes with the sweep again.   
  
Perkins swallowed loudly as the sweep lumbered towards him and raised his huge tradesman’s hands to settle rather too gently on the smooth white skin of his shoulders.   
  
The sweep was staring down at his already weeping cock.   
  
“Bloody 'ell guv, you're a bit of a kinky one, ain't ya?” He boomed.   
  
Perkins made a sound like a small whine, and lunged for him.   
  
Their mouths met with a taste of stale pipe tobacco, and the sweep's grizzled sideburns grazed Perkins' face and Perkins wrapped his arms tightly around the strapping big tradesman and pushed his tongue down his throat.   
  
The sweep's large hands crawled, rather clumsily at first, up and down Perkins' back, then raked over his shoulders and chest and thin, delicate arms. Perkins mewled and rubbed himself up against the rough, dirty fabric of the sweep's clothing.  
  
When he tired of the taste of the sweep's mouth, Perkins trailed his lips up the sweep's jaw and behind his ear and sucked the filthy sooty skin and breathed the strong musty smell of sweat. He was careful not to dislodge the flat cap from on top of the sweep's unkempt hair, as it added a delightful extra frisson to the proceedings.   
  
Suddenly one of the sweeps hands tangled in the strands of hair at the nape of Perkins' neck and his head was tugged back at an angle just this side of painful.   
  
“Like a bit of rough, do you guv?” The sweep murmured knowingly into Perkins' ear, making him gasp loudly.   
  
Perkins nodded needlessly, but he was already being manhandled up against the modest fireplace. The sweep's large, dirty hand pushed his face into the wall, squashing Perkins' nose against his cheek and rendering breathing difficult. He couldn't stop himself from thrusting his backside into the sweep's groin, and he found blessed heat and hardness there which made him thrust back harder.   
  
The sweep continued to hold Perkins head firmly against the wall, and Perkins heard him hock and spit into his free hand.   
  
Then rough, spit slicked fingers ran down between his quivering buttocks and found his entrance. Wonderfully long and _thick_ , the dirty fingers pushed inside him, clumsily probing and stretching him. Once or twice the roving digits came close, oh so close, to brushing _that_ place inside him, and after such a long time without anything like _this_ , close was enough to make the butler arch his back and whimper into the plaster above the mantle piece.   
  
It was damn near perfect and it made him want to beg.   
  
Instead, he made soft, incoherent pleading noises until he heard the rustling of the sweep freeing his cock from his trousers. Perkins bent his neck to a painful degree so that he could peer over his shoulder at the sight.The sweep had simply pushed his braces off each shoulder – as Perkins had known he would – so that they now hung around his thighs, and had pushed his trousers down only enough to free his pulsating red cock, which - it had to be said - was nicely in proportion with the rest of him.   
  
Perkins turned back to the wall and bit his lip in a delightful agony of anticipation.   
  
He was grateful when the sweep rushed the spitting and slicking and got on with the glorious pushing and shoving in... Lord, it was... stretching him so much and _such pain_ and oh god _he liked it!_ So much, oh the pain, the stretch _the ache..._   
  
He had his eyes shut tight and was hissing out through his teeth by the time the sweep was in up to the hilt, filling him up, and so close and big and warm and rough.  
  
Both the sweep's large hands now caressed his flanks with surprising tenderness, then stroked circle patterns low on his abdomen, always stopping just short of touching Perkins' cock.   
  
When at last the man began to move inside him, Perkins could have wept with relief. The thrusts brushed tantalisingly against _that_ place, and Perkins was in ecstasy, trapped between wanting to clench his muscles and wanting to relax them. He folded his arms on the mantle piece and rested his head atop them, muffling his sobs of _“Harder!”_ by biting down into the flesh of his right forearm.   
  
The monstrously strong hands of the sweep were now holding Perkins upright with a bruising grip on each hipbone, and the man was pounding into him with vulgar little grunts and snorts and all the brilliantly predictable vigour of a member of the thrifty working class.   
  
Almost at the same moment that Perkins thought _this has gone on quite long enough,_ the fantastically enterprising tradesman bit down savagely on the crease between Perkins' neck and shoulder blade, causing Perkins to go rigid and cry out.   
  
He climaxed in short, sharp spurts, in a way that was wonderfully painful, and seemed to wring him out completely, as surely as if he'd been placed in the housekeeper's mangle.  
  
And all the while the sweep held his hips and sucked at the bite on his shoulder and rammed inside him until Perkins felt the hot rush of the other man's semen deep within him. The sweep cursed and rasped for breath up against his ear, his side whiskers tickling Perkins neck.   
  
Perkins went stiff and awkward in the sweep's lethargic post-coital embrace, but he'd enjoyed himself enough that he allowed it, for now.  When the sweep finally pulled out of him Perkins felt sticky come trickling down the back of his aching thighs. He heard the sweep go about putting himself back together, and he knew he should be doing the same. He roused himself to walk the short distance to where he'd folded his clothing.   
  
“Cor blimey, guv'nor. Look at the state of you...” The sweep exclaimed in awe.   
  
Perkins obligingly looked down at himself and turned around to face the sweep again at the same time. He saw what the man meant.   
  
His previously pristine white skin was _ruined_. He was covered in smudges of grease, friction burns, sooty hand prints, the blossoming red bite marks on his shoulder and arm, fingernail marks, sweat... Not to mention the ejaculate currently oozing down between his legs.   
  
Even his neatly combed and slicked down hair had started to frizz and come loose.   
  
The corners of Perkins mouth turned upwards into a small smile, and in truth, he hoped the sweep would understand without the need for further explanation.   
  
The tradesman watched the butler curiously as he re-applied each layer of clothing, careful not to wipe any of his recently acquired grime away if he could possibly help it.   
  
When Perkins was fully dressed again in his pristine uniform only his messy hair told a tale of debauchery, and he soon had even that under control with a splash of water and a comb.   
  
The butler opened a desk drawer and took out a sufficient amount of money to cover what he had promised the master sweep, for both of the services rendered.   
  
In spite of all that had just passed between them, the master sweep still tipped his cap to the butler as he left, whistling as he collected his apprentices from the yard and went on his way.   
  
And Perkins went back about his daily business of running the household for her Ladyship, a slightly satisfied quirk playing at the edge of his lips at times, though he was very careful not to limp or stretch or stand in an odd way.  
  
It was serving tea to her Ladyship that afternoon, utterly perfect in his outward appearance and mannerisms, while thoroughly wrecked and covered in every kind of common street filth just underneath his clothes that gave him the greatest satisfaction.   
  
And he knew that intoxicating feeling would stay with him until he was safely tucked up in bed that night, with both hands beneath the sheets.   
  
*********

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End file.
